Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Swaziland and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Sound to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Dennis Brown. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Magazine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Deadbeat,
Joyce Sims,
Mad Mike,
Main Source,
Hardrive,
Pussy Galore,
The Cure,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marine Girls,
Soft Machine,
Subhumans,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Divine Comedy,
Yusef Lateef,
Smog,
Bill Near,
Rites of Spring,
Pantytec,
The Fall,
The Fugs,
Lakeside,
Das Ding,
Von Mondo,
The Black Dice,
Groovy Waters,
Brick,
Los Fastidios,
Ultra Naté,
Juan Atkins,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dark Day,
Quando Quango,
Lalann,
Boz Scaggs,
Oblivians,
Rekid,
Joe Smooth,
Essential Logic,
Hashim,
Robert Wyatt,
Nils Olav,
48th St. Collective,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Lydon,
The Pretty Things,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kerri Chandler,
Pere Ubu,
Minnie Riperton,
Albert Ayler,
Matthew Bourne,
K-Klass,
The Grass Roots,
Procol Harum,
Todd Terry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Roxette,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Aural Exciters,
The Evens,
The Invisible,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.